


One-ups-manship.  1/1.

by punky_96



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Competitive, F/F, Genderfluid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 02:59:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14511051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: Re-post from LJ.Summary: Emily started the competition, but Andy finishes it.Kink: genderplay.Written for the Quick & Dirty Ficathon for the prompt: A/E competitive.





	One-ups-manship.  1/1.

**_One-ups-manship_**  
  
Emily wore a tie. She wore a too short skirt and too tall heel—and a tie.  
  
Andy wore men’s trousers and dress shoes and a sheer blouse that had both Nigel and Miranda looking twice.  
  
Emily wore a full three piece suit with kerchief in the pocket and the most shocking pair of Louboutin’s she could find.  
  
Andy wore trousers, a tie, and a vest like she was a 1950s journalist for the day.  
  
Emily pulled her hair back, bound her breasts and walked the fine line between male and female.  
  
Andy bound her breasts, slipped on a white tank top, and then glammed it up with a barely there Armani vest and trousers.  
  
They walked in and out of Miranda’s office parading in front of each other. Their eyes speaking the challenge that neither would dare articulate. Their bodies humming closer to the inevitable that their brains couldn’t quite grasp. A finger trailed along the other’s desk as they passed by was not unusual. A hand smoothing over a breast emphasized by the male tie, or hidden by the binding, asked for the caress of the other instead of their own hand. A challenge was laid down. How far could they go with this game? In front of Miranda’s office? Crossing the lines between the feminine and the fashionable.  
  
Emily in her rather feminine suit waited until Miranda had gone to the board room.  
  
“I win. I win this contest. Give up.” Emily crossed her arms haughtily across her chest as she looked down at Andy.  
  
Andy rolled her chair back, her elbow on the arm of a chair and a pencil twirling as she smirked at Emily. “You win?” Andy let her other hand fall into the crotch of her wide-open legs. “I don’t think so.” Andy cupped herself, only she didn’t quite cup herself, there was something there. Emily gasped and stepped back thinking that what she thought couldn’t be right and shouldn’t make her as wet as she knew she was getting. Andy followed. The chase was on. Emily took three steps and then turned to face Andy trying to fight the smile on her face. Andy advanced on her trying not to gloat too much yet. “Concede.” Andy prompted as Emily backed up against the wall next to Miranda’s door. Emily felt with frantic fingertips along the wall but shook her head in the negative. She wasn’t ready to give up yet, it was just starting to get really, really good. “No?” Andy teased reaching for Emily’s hand. “You have to feel for yourself, that I won? Hmmm.” Andy rubbed Emily’s hand up and down against the outside of her zipper until Emily reached forward with both hands pulling Andy’s belt loose, unbuttoning that solitary button, and then reaching forward and into Andy’s pants with one hand. Watching Emily’s eyes dilate as she watched made Andy unbelievably wet. She had to be inside her coworker immediately.  
  
Roughly pushing Emily’s hands away, Andy loosened her belt and quickly pulled her trousers down. Unable to deny it was what she wanted any longer, Emily stepped out of her shoes and her trousers. As they mutually explored these new horizons Emily hooked her leg up and around Andy’s hip as she slid deep. They didn’t kiss, or pant, or talk. The only sounds in the room were made by the physicality of their bodies. Their work had long ago settled into a begrudging routine that was efficient and rhythmic. In the same way their bodies fell against and into each other effectively and well-paced for the other.  
  
“You started it.” Andy couldn’t help gloating a little bit as Emily bit her lip from moaning and breathed in hard. Emily glared, her blue eyes almost obsidian with the dilation of lust. Andy pulled her cock away from Emily’s sex slowly and her lip caught in the annoying Elvis snarl that she always did when she knew she was right. Emily hated it, loved it, and hated herself for not being able to decide conclusively which it was. When Emily’s reply took too long, Andy slid forward fast and hard. Emily’s body shuddered up the wall and back down as she reflexively clutched onto Andy’s shoulders tighter. If it wasn’t for the vest, tank top and binding of her breasts, Andy thought Emily would have drawn blood on bare skin. Andy rolled her hips in a circle once, twice, three times and Emily’s hips thrust forward to meet hers each time, the fabric of her suit jacket sliding up and down against the wall. Knowing Emily would do her best not to acknowledge their situation, let alone Andy’s unquestionable correctness, Andy shifted one leg forward the better to hold Emily in place with. Not that Emily would be going anywhere with her legs wrapped around Andy’s cock and body, and Emily’s arms clawing against Andy. But Andy was a gentleman—if she was going to do this, then she was going to do this all the way. Adjusting her hold on Emily so that one hand was more supportive, Andy moved her other hand to accomplish her goal.  
  
Space was tight, but Andy’s determined thumb was able to navigate between the crush of their bodies, around the pushed aside panties, and against Emily’s oh so wet folds. Stroking in time with the pressure of her thumb against the bundle of nerves controlling Emily’s body like a leash, Andy told her. “And I’m going to finish it.” Either that was enough or perhaps the bite against her neck was it; although it may have been the heady smell of Andy’s cologne or her slow thrusts; or perhaps it was the thrill of the chase being over as it all combined on the thousand points of light where Andy’s thumb pressed just fucking right. In any case, Emily came and came hard—and she would have had to admit that she indeed may have started it, but Andy well and truly finished it.  
  
“Oh, boy.” Emily said as she sank against Andy until they crumpled to the floor in a mess.  
  
“Oh, don’t even go there, ‘oh boy.’” Andy laughed as she kissed Emily for the first time slow and sweet on the lips.  
  
Competition over, perhaps there was something driving them toward each other after all.  
  
  
**The End.**  
  
  
.

 


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